


And Promises To Keep ?

by wellmet



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 14:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14334309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellmet/pseuds/wellmet
Summary: James Bond breaks a promise he made after losing Vesper when duty calls





	And Promises To Keep ?

And PROMISES TO KEEP?

Meretseger 2017  
James Bond strolled into Q Branch looking pleased with himself - as usual. He looked around but the Quartermaster was nowhere in sight. Instead he went to stand next to Q's second, who liked to be called R. He was just back from an assignment in Iceland. Super-villain, Loki Smithsson,* defeated - he'd planned a volcanic explosion that would disrupt the European climate to such an extent that he and his backers could take over the continent (Bond had fought with him while dangling from a rescue helicopter and had had the satisfaction of seeing Smithsson being swallowed up by lava) - he had spent three days with Detective Katrin Grimsonsdotter and had been happy to find that the cold of Iceland's climate was matched by the warmth of it's peoples' welcome. He felt at ease with himself again, comfortable in his place and time. Now he was back at MI6 headquarters and all that was needed was to see Q and exchange some snarky comments. 

"007," R was a little older than most of the 'minions' and happily married so, although she enjoyed looking at Bond in his dark grey bespoke suit with a shirt that matched the icy blue of his eyes she was (or so she always claimed) immune to his charm. "Here to return your tech?" She knew there wouldn't be any tech to return but, like Q, she lived in hope. "Meet any komodo dragons while you were in Iceland?"

Bond smiled and sighed. "It's too cold for them there but there was an ice palace …" Was of course.

R sighed as if very put out since she knew as well as 007 did that he had found a volcanic vent and melted the hotel. "Just put the reason why you broke everything in your report, 007." She smiled falsely and left to get some work done; some of the younger Q Branch staff seemed to be as fascinated as mice when a snake looks in their direction whenever a double 0 was around. Especially if that double 0 was James Bond. 

Q wasn't anywhere Bond could see him so he headed for the labs - when he wasn't running an operation from the giant screens in the main area or writing computer code the boffin could be found creating more gadgets.

Bond found Q in one of the labs set up for micro-engineering. "Good morning Q," he said as he entered the lab - it didn't do to get too close before letting Q know you were around; making the man jump could result in a nasty surprise. Q might be young, skinny, wear clashing coloured clothes and dark rimmed glasses but he was trained in self-defence and kept a modified Tazer to hand. 004 still complained about the how shock from the Tazer had made his hair permanently frizzy!

 

*Couldn't resist this name - Loki, of course, is the Norse Trickster god and a volcano in Iceland is named after him. The Smithsson bit is from the Greek Hepheastus also a volcano god. I love the names Ian Fleming gave to the Bond villains (and to the Bond girls.)

When he got no answer Bond moved closer to the other man and it was then that he realised that Q wasn't bent over the bench working on tech but holding his head in his hands. Thinking that Q was tired and maybe half asleep Bond moved to stand close to   
him. "Why don't you go home and have some sleep?" He knew Q tended to over work. 

 

But when Q turned to look at him Bond stopped, shocked by the utter despair on the younger man's face. There was only one reason for the Quartermaster to look so upset … an agent of Her Majesty's Secret Service was dead and Q felt that it was his fault. Bond hadn't heard of any deaths- but that only proved that Q Branch Minions (as they seemed to like being called) didn't gossip. "Who?" he asked. 

"What?" Q asked, his thoughts had been far away and the question puzzled him. Then he realised what 007 was asking and he shook his head. "Nobody, 007. It's personal."

"Care to tell me?" Bond asked. He and Q got on well, despite - or perhaps because of - the sarcastic comments they tossed back and forth between them. It had never mattered to Bond that Q was an omega - as long as he kept on providing him with tech and information the man's secondary gender, or his first for that matter, was irrelevant. Bond knew that not everybody felt the same; omega rights had changed over the last fifty years but some people still lived in the past and believed that omega's should stick to the 3 K's - 'Kinder, Kuche, Kirche' translated roughly into English as 'barefoot and pregnant' *. When Q shook his head Bond said, "sometimes talking to a friend helps. Even if all they can do it listen." Not that he was an expert on relationships but if he was there and didn't help the Quartermaster then when all his fellow double 0s found out he'd done nothing he would face some hard questions - and fists! 

"Are we?" Q asked, his voice flat, without it's usual sharpness. "Friends I mean?"

"I'd like to thing so," Bond answered. He put a hand on the other man's shoulder, feeling the bones under his fingers. Q was always skinny but Bond noticed that the bones on his wrists and face seemed to be more pronounced than usual. Whatever was troubling Q was serious. "Why don't I take you home and we can talk."

Q sighed; he was tired and miserable and he could smell Bond's aftershave and his clean alpha scent. "Yes, okay," Q agreed. "I'll meet you in the car park in half an hour."

Bond nodded and left. Q went to tell R that he was taking the rest of the day off. R made notes on her ipad, relieved that her boss was finally taking some time off. He'd not been well for a week or so and she was worried. She owed Bond one for convincing the Quartermaster to go home. She'd forgive him for flirting for that good deed! 

*German for 'children, kitchen and church'. Hitler's view on the place of women in the 1,000 year Reich.

 

The silence between the two men was heavy as Bond drove to the address Q had given him. The house was in a row that had once been shops with living space above. Bond parked in the street and didn't offer to help his friend as the younger man almost stumbled as he got out of the Aston Martin, he knew that right now his offer of a steadying arm would be rebuffed. He bent down to get the carry bag from the back and followed Q to what had been the shop's front doorway. The large windows to either side of the door had wire set into the heavy glass and louvered shutters for privacy. The large space inside was empty, as if Q had no use for it.

A locked door led from the shop to the room that had once been a kitchen and which overlooked a brick-paved and walled yard with a large tree in one corner. Stairs led up to the next floor and Q plodded up them as if he was exhausted.

Used to assessing his situation in a glance Bond looked around the house as he followed his friend upstairs. At first glance the place looked too Spartan with its polished wooden floors and white walls. The windows all had wooden louvered shutters on the inside and there were no curtains to soften the harsh plainness but as he looked around 007 noticed the carpets and rugs in varied patterns and colours scattered around the rooms and the paintings of landscapes and flowers on the walls. It was an odd style but Bond decided he liked it. Trust Q to be different! 

Q waved in the general direction of the kitchen table. "Sit down, 007. I'll make some tea - coffee for you?"

 

"If you have it," Bond agreed. "Call me James." 

Q nodded his acceptance of the first name and as he turned on the kettle and the coffee maker offered something back. "Quintillion, if you want." He much preferred Q but if this was going to be a discussion between friends he supposed he should offer his name. 

When he was handed his mug of rather good coffee James took a sip, put down the mug and said, "alright, Q, tell me what's wrong." Somehow he couldn't think of his favourite boffin as anything but Q.

Q took a sip of his tea, already feeling a little better. James had been right about talking with a friend. There was nothing Bond could do but having somebody actually care was nice. His staff had looked concerned but he couldn't tell them what was wrong. James was used to keeping secrets and he knew he could trust him with this one. Not that it would matter in the long run but still …

"Eight days ago," he even knew the hour and minute, "my alpha parent called and told me to present myself at her house for dinner. When I got there she told me that she had decided that since my two alpha brothers did not want to give her heirs that I would have to. She ordered me to resign from MI6 and to return home. That she would arrange for alphas to come to me when I was in heat so I would have pups. The alphas would not bond with me so the pups would be hers." 

Bond was shocked at the bald statement. He put down his mug, noticing that, incredibly, his hand was shaking. He wasn't sure what to say but he finally found a question. "Can she do that?" knowing full well that she could.

Q managed a shrug. "I'm not bonded to an alpha of my own so she is still my alpha. Not all the changes in laws are going to change that." 

"But it's the alpha childrens' job to breed heirs not the omegas!" Bond stated. "Why aren't they doing their duty?" Maybe he could go around to the brothers and make them do their job. He'd refrain from convincing them with extreme prejudice only because dead they couldn't make pups! 

"My oldest brother thinks sex is too messy and the other one doesn't want pups getting in his way. Even though his partner is an omega and seems to like babies and children." He buried his face in his hands, despairing of the life he had built for himself. He had achieved all he had ever wanted and now it was going to be snatched away from him… all the could see was years of boredom and babies.

"Did you never want an alpha and pups?" Bond asked, not sure what to say but needing to, at least, keep the conversation going.

Q shook his head. "No, not really. I wanted to do what I'm doing now. I put up with people saying I should study the Arts or the Humanities- they were more suited to an omega, after all. I got a job working for the Treasury and when M came head-hunting I happily accepted her offer to work for the Secret Service." He couldn't stop the quiver in his voice, "I was happy, you know." A little humour managed to get through his misery and he looked up. "Despite double 0's feeding my tech to komodo dragons!"

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" Bond asked with a smile that managed to be less smirk than usual. He slid a hand over to Q's side of the table, just touching his fingertips to Q's as they lay flat on the table. He had a suggestion to make. "005 would be willing to bond to you, she values you as much as any of the double 0s."

Q shook his head sadly. "I sure she would have but she bonded just last week." He managed a rather shaky smile. "His name's Roger Blake and he's an artist." He lifted a hand to point vaguely in the direction of a landscape on the wall by the table. "That's one of his. I introduced them just before she went on her last mission and she came back determined to claim him." Roger had already phoned him expressing his desire to bond to the tall, slender and beautiful Catherine Clarke and so Q had had no hesitation in nudging 005 into proposing. 

Bond nodded and then said, "009?" But a moment's thought had him shaking his head. Q would be no better off under Damien's control than he would be at home. The alpha's views on the place of omegas was well known. That left only one alpha. "Ah …" Bond began but a hand on his for barely a moment stopped him before he could start …

"No James," Q's voice shook. He would have been overjoyed to bond with James, who he had fancied from the first time he saw him sitting glaring at the Turner. "I know you are only attracted to women." Sexual orientation was just a further complication in the male/female alpha/omega mating complex. He was, given a choice, gay and Bond, it was obvious, was heterosexual. Pity but there was nothing to be done about it.

Bond took a slender hand in his, feeling the calluses on the finger tips from too much time spent using keyboards and fine-nosed pliers. "Only when it comes to betas." He shrugged. "Omegas, once bonded, are immune to my charms so I don't waste my time trying to seduce information out of them - betas, on the other hand, are much more … er, open to persuasion. As an alpha I'm flexible." He preferred female omegas - like Vesper - but put him in bed with a male omega in heat and he would bond if the omega was willing. And once bonded he would want to make love to his omega, even when he wasn't in heat. In a way he was lucky that his brain would take over his body and he and Q would be lovers despite his never having a male lover before - or wanting one.

"Are you sure James?" Q forced himself to ask. He knew about the omega Vesper Lynd. The offer of a bond over-rode his alpha parent's order; biology had its own imperatives.

James nodded. "Yes. You're needed in MI6, valued for who you are." He shook his head. "You would be wasted at home." A shrug. "And we're friends. I think we can manage somehow." He wanted to make it clear that what he was proposing was not a love match. He picked up the omega's too thin hands and kissed the knuckles, left and right and looked into Q's wary green eyes. "I will only ever give you one order. And that will be, 'you decide,' You have my promise."

Q felt something loosen in his belly. He would have liked to be mated to James Bond in a love match but he would take friendship and the man's word on his future. He turned their hands over and kissed James's knuckles, left and right. He looked up into icy blue eyes that no amount of global warming would ever melt. He knew enough about Vesper to know what he had to say. "Then I accept your offer, alpha. With thanks. I will never choose love over my duty to my Queen and my country. You have my promise."

Bond nodded. "Thank you." Like him Q valued duty above anything else - even love. 

Emotions thrummed between them for a long moment - and then Q yawned. And yawned again. Bond laughed. "I think you need to sleep, Q. Unless you want lunch first?"

Q shook his head. "I don't think I have the energy to chew right now." It had been a long week with little sleep. He managed to stand, staggering a little until a strong arm under his guided him towards the stairs. 

Bond managed to strip his omega down to his underwear and slip him under the blankets. The room was dim, the shutters closed and the Quartermaster was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. James brushed the unruly dark curls with his hand, leant down and kissed the pale skin of the younger man's face and left, cat footed.

007 was a very highly trained agent and he always liked to know the entrances and exits of where ever he was so he looked into every room, store room and even the dumb waiter. He stopped to look at the landscapes noticing that they were in all sorts of media from water colours to oils, and even a couple of embroideries. One had a grey tabby sitting on a window sill looking out on a pink sky, another tall, impossible, towers in glittering metal threads. The flower paintings were as varied and all were of flowers that, at first glance, looked ordinary and then seemed to twist into unearthly shapes and colours. He began to think that he might like living in this odd, mismatched but interesting house. His own flat was just a place to keep his clothes and his bottles of scotch. 

His tour completed Bond made coffee and settled down to eat the sandwich he had bought while waiting for Q to brief his staff. There was a magazine on the table and he picked it up to read the title, hoping for something vaguely interesting to pass the time. It was New Scientist, a title he'd seen in newsagents at airports around the world so he flipped it open to read about the end of the Cassini space craft's voyage.

When Q woke he lay for a moment, enjoying the feeling of satisfaction. He would be able to work for MI6 and that was the most important thing in his life. He smiled - wouldn't his brothers be annoyed when Mommy had to turn to one of them for heirs! He was hungry so he slipped out of bed and went to shower and then to find his alpha. 

James had found a comfortable chair in the living room and settled down to read the rest of the magazine. 

"Tea?" Q asked, having found his favourite spy looking relaxed and at ease without his suit coat or tie. "Coffee?"

"Tea," Bond answered putting the magazine aside. "I bought you some sandwiches and fruit salad. You make the tea and I'll get them out for you." He wasn't one of those alphas who thought it undercut their superiority to do domestic stuff. "When will your heat start?"

Q was unused to discussing such private things but he realised that with an alpha he'd have to learn to so he took a deep breath. "If I stop my suppressant in the morning it should start …" he counted on his fingers, "sometime late Thursday."

Bond nodded. "Three days. I'll move in on Wednesday and ask for my bonding leave to start then, I'm already on mandatory post-mission leave."

Q nodded. "Thank you. That suits me as well. I'll organise R to take over for the week." 

 

Q and Bond had spent the rest of the afternoon deciding on the details of their life together; James would move into Q's home because that was what it was. Q had been surprised, it was traditional for the omega to move into the alpha's home but as for as Bond he didn't give a damn what alphas were supposed to do; as far as he was concerned Q had a right to his own home and the right to keep it when they were bonded. He had met the cats, they'd eventually come inside to see who was visiting and he'd been introduced. Bond had somehow expected Q to own well-bred exotic cats but these two were just ordinary moggies - short haired tabbies from the RSPCA. Cattus was a grey tabby with white feet and tail tip and Meeow dark brown with fawn marking and a few spots of orange. Q had laughed and said, 'at least they aren't Woof and Squeek!'. Bond hadn't really understood the joke but hadn't asked it to be explained. **

Bond locked the door to his flat behind him and went straight to the kitchen. Light from the street came in through the un-curtained windows and anyway he could find his way around the rooms in a black-out. He was a double 0 in Her Majesty's Secret Service and he always knew exactly where every obstacle was. He took a glass and a bottle of scotch and went to stand in the bay window and look down at the street without really seeing it. He poured a generous amount of the drink into the glass and downed half of it in one go. 

Bond poured more scotch and drank deeply. He had had little choice but to propose bonding with Q. MI6, England!, needed the Quartermaster; the other double 0s needed him, not only for the equipment he supplied but for the information he could seem to pull out of any computer system in the world and the way he could use any surveillance camera he wanted to guide them in and out of the places they had to infiltrate; it would have been stupid to refuse to bond with the omega just because he had promised himself - after Vesper - that he would never take on a permanent partner. He had decided that it was not worth the risk, the heart-ache and trouble that a permanent relationship seemed to drag along with all the promises of future happiness. He had decided to take his pleasures where he could, to live and love for the moment. Quintillian's alpha parent had changed all that with her demands for heirs that Q's brothers should have been providing but would not. Now he and Q were committed to bonding and he had broken a promise made to the only person with whom he had to keep faith - himself. It had been a good decision but for the moment it felt like a betrayal. 

Bond lifted the bottle and checked the level of the scotch that was left and decided to get drunk, to forget the promise he had made, the self-betrayal. Tomorrow was another day. As he had done so often before he had broken his word for the good of his country. He could live with it - for Q. 

Quintilian undressed and slid into bed relaxing happily into the warmth. He was relaxed now, relieved of the worry that his life as he had chosen to live it was coming to and end. He and James had made lots of decisions - the best was that they would live here, in the home that he, Q, had made for himself. They would share a bed and their lives and he would be free to continue as Quartermaster of MI6. There would be no pups James had assured him and he would be as free as he had ever been, James had assured him of that, too. He knew James didn't love him and probably never would, but there would be respect, mutual respect, and that was enough. He would never have the chance to find an alpha he loved and wanted to live with, once bonded he would want only James, but he had never really wanted an alpha anyway. Bond would be away on missions as usual so he would be, in fact if not in law, as independent as he was now. James would go on as he had always done - there would be beta women to seduce for information but Q didn't feel betrayed by that possibility. And James had promised that if he wanted a woman when he was not working he would take her to her place and not bring her to Q's home. Q didn't like the idea of his alpha having lovers but he understood Bond's need to sometimes have a woman so he would ignore their smell on his mate. For his freedom to be who he wanted to be. 

Sighing, his stomach full of the wonderful food they had eaten at the expensive restaurant they had gone to for a celebratory dinner, Q relaxed. Before sleep claimed him he lifted a finger to his alpha parent. And then did it again to his alpha brothers. 

** I am told that cattus was actually the word the Ancient Romans used for dog/puppy and they used it for cats as Latin had no word for domestic type cats. Felix is for the big ones. Meeow is obvious.


End file.
